Chapter 3 - Declined
The hospital breakfast tasted like cardboard, but I forced myself to eat.
At 9:15 a.m., my phone began to vibrate violently on the tray table.
It was Lauren.
I let it ring, watching the screen light up again and again.
When it finally stopped, a barrage of text messages flooded in.
“Why is my card declining?!”
“Miranda, I’m at the furniture store. Fix this.”
“Hello? Are you ignoring me?”
I handed the phone to Marisol, who was checking my vitals.
“Can you turn that off and put it in the drawer?” I asked.
“Gladly,” she said, powering it down with a satisfying click.
An hour later, I heard yelling at the nurses' station down the hall.
“I demand to see my sister!” Lauren’s shrill voice echoed through the corridor.
“Ma’am, you cannot just barge in here,” a security guard replied firmly.
My door flew open before they could stop her.
Lauren stood there, red-faced, clutching a designer handbag I had bought her for her birthday.
“What did you do to my account?” she screamed.
Julian, who had arrived ten minutes earlier with paperwork, stood up.
“Mrs. Davis, you are trespassing,” Julian said calmly.
“Shut up, suit!” she snapped, glaring at me. “Miranda, the card declined on a five-thousand-dollar custom crib!”
“I know,” I said calmly. “I canceled the card.”
Lauren’s jaw dropped. “Why would you do that? Mom said you were just throwing a tantrum.”
“I’m throwing a tantrum?” I asked, a cold laugh escaping my lips.
“You’re just jealous because I’m pregnant and they were helping me,” she whined.
“I was in surgery for five hours,” I stated, keeping my voice level.
“And you survived! So what’s the big deal?”
Her sheer entitlement took my breath away for a second.
“The big deal is that my money is mine,” I said.
“It’s family money!” she argued, stomping her foot.
“No, Lauren,” Julian interjected. “It is Miranda’s money, earned from the sale of her company.”
“She owes me that allowance!” Lauren shrieked.
“I don’t owe you anything,” I said, sinking back into the pillows.
Two security guards stepped into the room, grabbing Lauren by the arms.
“Get off me! I’m pregnant!” she yelled, thrashing against them.
“Then you shouldn’t be causing a scene in a cardiac and trauma ward,” Marisol said, stepping aside to let them drag her out.
“Mom and Dad are going to kill you for this!” Lauren screamed down the hallway.
Julian closed the door, shaking his head.
“Well,” he said quietly. “The band-aid is officially ripped off.”
May you like
“It’s going to get worse,” I murmured.
“Let it,” Julian replied, handing me a pen to sign the final trust documents.
